


Chances

by fragilespark



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 06:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5486795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragilespark/pseuds/fragilespark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carver crosses the line with a touch, but Fenris reaches out to forgive him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

After months of longing, after finally getting close enough to kiss him, Carver thought he had a chance, but Fenris pulled away.

He should have known better than to grab Fenris’ arm.

Fenris, with a blue flare, shoved Carver up against the wall.

In that moment, Carver knew it had all gone horribly wrong.

“You should leave.”

Carver was surprised his heart had not been ripped out. His inhale was a shudder and he slowly pulled from the wall. As he walked to the door, his breath hitched again, although it burned his pride that Fenris would think he was crying. It was just humiliating that was all. It was just disappointing. He told himself over and over again that it didn’t matter.

By the time he reached the city gates, he was running. Wanting to escape the gaze of anyone witnessing his tear-stung eyes, he ran past the guard post and sat on a sun warmed rock, letting the heartbreak go through him.

 

The scrape of whetstone against blade wasn’t comforting. It reminded him of being alone. Learning skills that weren’t required by his siblings and weren’t of use until he took over some of the farmwork and joined the army.

It was just something to do.

Carver was sullen against any attempts at conversation, sat as he was outside Gamlen’s house. He refused to make eye contact with any passers by below, keeping his gaze down on the slow sharpening.

They could shove it.

 

When Fenris’ white hair appeared as he ascended the steps, Carver jumped. He stilled instantly but the start had made his heart quicken. The uncertainty of Fenris’ presence stopped it from slowing.

“She’s not here.”

“Perhaps I’ve come to see you.”

Perhaps. “Have you?”

“I… apologise.”

Carver was touched that Fenris had come here to do so. “Did I deserve it though?”

Fenris leaned against the wall. “I do not like to be touched. Without warning, it is worse.”

Carver looked down. “I’m sorry.”

“You did not know.”

“I should’ve guessed.”

A shrug. “There was no reason for you to do so. Some slaves crave touch.” He held his arm out, which he often did when discussing his markings. “I… am wary of it.”

Carver’s lips parted. He had been too rash, and the thought of hurting Fenris made him feel ill.

Fenris pushed off the wall. “If you wish to visit me again, you are welcome.” He nodded and moved away.

“Fenris.” Carver leaned forward, ready to stand if he had to.

“Yes?”

He had nothing to offer. Nothing at all. “I’m free now, if you want to…” he searched for the right word, “stay?”

Normally he wouldn’t invite anyone to lean against a wall in Lowtown but being in an elevated position it was free of the lingering smell of piss, at least.

“I need to visit the market.”

“Right.” Carver had to stop himself apologising for even suggesting it. Casual. Friendly. Nothing more. Fenris would have had to go through the market already to got him, but he couldn’t begrudge him being polite. He resumed the sharpening, but half-heartedly. He really wanted to be doing something else, but the distraction prevented him from figuring out what it was.

 

When Fenris appeared for the second time, Carver’s chest made the same little twitch.

“I tend to eat at this hour. I thought you’d like some?”

He wasn’t used to hearing that questioning tone in Fenris’ voice. It gave him hope, and maybe instead of waiting for chances to take something more, he’d appreciate what was already offered.


	2. Chapter 2

Fenris noticed it on a rare trip where Hawke took both him and Carver along. Carver’s arm had shot out in front of Fenris as he was about to stumble barefoot onto some brambles. He had seen them of course, although he would have been grateful for the intervention nonetheless, but Carver pulled his hand away even faster than he had offered it. It seemed Fenris’ reaction to his touch had already seeped even into his protective instinct.

The next time they stopped for a break, Fenris placed his hand on Carver’s arm. The muscles twitched lightly under his touch, betraying his surprise, even though Carver tried to keep his expression resolutely nonplussed. Fenris’ own hand felt a tingle at being in touch with the other’s warm skin, but he pulled away gently, lest Carver thought he found touching him unpleasant after all.

That night he thought about it, his mind idling on the matter until he fell asleep. His senses remembered his hand being scored with the lyrium brands, and he woke up gasping, images of Danarius a lingering assault on his waking state. He was no coward, but it was enough to make him consider never touching another person again; he thought of Carver, and could not settle his conflicting thoughts.

The tentative hesitation displayed by Carver following Fenris’ reassurance was infinitely endearing to the elf. He didn’t yet know if it was wise to invite further contact, what it would mean, what Carver would expect. On subsequent nights he thought he had glanced upon more memories but they eluded him. Was curiosity worth the pain? His mind was not made up until a vision he thought might be a memory came to him and he realised it wasn’t from his past at all. It was Carver, Fenris’ own mind reaching out for him.

Fenris didn’t wait for chance to bring them together again. He invited Carver to visit his mansion again, this time firmly requesting a time Carver would be there. He didn’t know how to describe the look on Carver’s face - guarded excitement perhaps, as far as he could guess from his previous interactions with him - but he knew what was going on in his own heart was a quiet hope.


End file.
